Umm, what?

At my wife's 32 week check-up, I asked the doctor, "If my wife goes into labor early, at what point do you stop stopping it?"

His reply, "Anytime after 34 weeks, we'll let nature take it's course."

Which means that if my wife goes into labor in 11 days, we'll have a child in 11 or 12 days. That's less than two weeks away.

Umm, what?

-A

Kicking it into Overdrive.

From my "research" and personal experience, every parent or parent-to-be undertakes a journey. It is the journey from the state of happy-go-lucky, my-decisions-only-affect-me to the state of what-if-something-happens.

For me, I feel as if I have reached this second state of mind. It isn't that I'm afraid OF my daughter-to-be... I'm afraid FOR her. Recently, I have seen the worst of what can happen to a parent; when the child you've been growing and loving for weeks and months comes very early and only sticks around for a few hours of loving embraces.

Recently, I have felt first-hand the fear that comes with the thought, "Something isn't right." A few nights ago, my wife called me into the bedroom with tears in her voice, telling me that she hadn't felt our baby move in three hours. She had tried everything she could to wake up the angel in her womb. Eating dinner, with a sugary dessert. Her daily allotment of caffeine in a short period of time. A cold drink. Poking. Prodding. Lying on her side in bed in order to focus on and feel the most minute of movements. When I entered the room, I joined her on the bed and began the ritual that had always produced a reaction from our daughter. I gave her Reiki, I put my head on my wife's belly and spoke to her. I poked, prodded and did everything I could to get a little kick.

When none of that worked, when our child was continuously unresponsive, we called Labor and Delivery. After running through the list of our attempts to elicit a reaction, the nurse very quickly told me to bring mother and baby into the hospital, and not to waste any time about it.

That ride, those meager little minutes, was the longest period of waiting that I had ever experienced. Fearing, as I drove faster than normal, that something horrible had happened to our littlest angel. Fearing, as I tried to see the lane lines through blurry eyes, that we would somehow have to cope with loss. She still hadn't kicked.

When we arrived at Labor and Delivery, the 45 seconds of paperwork they wanted us to fill out fueled a barely-containable fit of useless rage. They brought us to a triage room, and hooked my wife up to the fetal monitors. After a few seconds of piano-wire tension, our baby's heartbeat came through loud and clear.

After pulling myself back up from the puddle of relief that I had turned into on the floor of the hospital, I was able to relax and begin to think about how this experience had affected me.

I knew that my mind had traveled to the darkest of places, and that my fear fed upon itself as it said, "What if... what if... what if... what if..." And I knew that as much as I've tried to convince myself otherwise, sometimes fear is the appropriate response.

But as I said a few months ago, "I refuse to let fear drag me through my life; I am in charge." Regardless of it's veracity at the time, this mini-mantra has helped me regain my sanity faster, to push the fear into the background, and to help me know that I will do everything in my power to keep my family safe and healthy.

I just hope that I can keep it in the background long enough to let our baby make the mistakes that she will need to make in order to learn and to grow.

-A

Alien Baby

So for the past few weeks, my wife has repeatedly looked at me with wide eyes and a shocked expression. Inevitably, "She's doing it again. She's being Alien Baby."

Apparently, Alien Baby is doing more than throwing out jabs and front kicks. She's stretching. Imagine the stretchy rubber sheets they used to use in 80s and early 90s music videos, and "B" horror movies. Now press two hands against that sheet and press outwards. Now spread your hands slowly, and plant your face in the space between, while wearing a sh*t-eating grin. Yep, that's my kid making faces on her mom's stomach.

She doesn't do it often, or with any sort of regularity... maybe once a day, or every other day, at least as far as I'm informed... so I've missed the displays. Until tonight.

My wife came home from work, and as we regularly do, we crawled into bed for a half hour of decompression: she tells me about her day, I tell her about mine, we both cuddle/play with the dogs, and I usually rest my hand on her stomach and give her and Alien Baby some Reiki. Today, it was decided by the Powers That Are-Almost that I would be gifted with the experience of feeling these unique and sometimes extraordinarily weird movements.

It was amazing. Truly, epically strange and wonderful, wrapped into one tiny little stretch. Now, this obviously wasn't the first time I've felt her moving and playing (she really likes Reiki), but this was so drastically different from what I've felt that I knew my eyes had opened wide and I put on a shocked expression.

I should get used to this expression, I think, because I'm pretty sure I'm going to be wearing it for a long time.

-A

Community

A few days ago, I joined a baby-related message board, where I'm pretty sure that I'm the only person with male junk. First, I just have to get out a quick "Thank you" for making me feel so welcome in your world.

Earlier this evening, a woman posted that she had to go to the hospital, due to complications with her pregnancy.

The outpouring of unconditional love, support and prayers was one of the most moving commentaries on our society that I have ever seen or even heard of. These women, who can have as little in common as just being the same gender, were in tears for their fellow-in-arms, calling out with passionate vigor that by sheer force of their will alone, everything will be okay.

On a message board that considers 250 views and 20 replies on a single topic to be worthy of being flagged for popularity, this one post managed (in just a few hours) to accumulate well over 1,000 views, and over 100 replies. Every reply was a note of love and support.

As I sat here, refreshing every minute hoping for the "all-clear" update, I watched the community band together under a single cause. These disparate women, from all walks of life, from all over the country, many of whom don't get along, they all stood as one.

It is truly humbling to see. As a man, I can never understand exactly what feelings this situation evokes for a mother, or someone hoping to become a mother, but one doesn't need a gender to know... to see... to feel the unequivocal love that humanity is capable of. This glimpse into the greatest heights of human passion is inspiring.

Truly, I feel blessed to have been welcomed into a community that is capable of this on such a large scale.

TW, my thoughts and prayers are with you.

-A

Am I Alone?

I've been obsessed with the internet lately, much more so than usual.

The topic of this obsession basically boils down to "the last three months before the arrival of a baby, and how this impacts parents." I've read stories about people having their fourth or fifth child. I've read stories about people having their first child. I've read stories written by mothers, fathers, grandparents, aunts and uncles. By at-home parents. By parents at-home who also work full-time from an office in the house. By parents who both work outside of the home.

In that regard, there is a niche that I fit into: at-home father, not working, focusing solely on the upbringing of children. Of course, I don't have a child at home full-time right now (my 11 year old comes home every other weekend), which means that I have significantly more time on my hands. And I've used that time partially as mentioned above.

What makes me feel alone, however, is the complete and utter lack of marrow-deep, gut-wrenching, palpitation-inducing fear that most parents feel around the arrival of their newest family member. Sure, every so often I get hit with a wave of, "Holy crap, this is for real." But it never lasts for long, and I wouldn't put it in the same category as, "Holy !@*#, this is for real!!"

I haven't been able to find the experiences of an about-to-become-a-parent that seems to fit what I'm going through.

I am just incredibly excited. If I didn't know that our bundle of joy wasn't done cooking, I'd be begging the doctors to induce now. I just cannot, cannot wait to meet her. The potential that is gestating nearly blows my mind... she could be a doctor. She could be a president. She could be the first woman to walk on Mars, or explore the depths of the Mariana Trench.

Aside from what she could do with her life, I am extremely eager to just meet her. I want to explore and understand every facet of her personality. I want to learn alongside of her about what she likes and dislikes. I want to discover the methods that work best to calm her down when she's upset. I want to watch her explore this beautiful world, and see through her eyes the newness and magic that is life on this planet. I want to read to her, the books that I loved as a child, that my son loved when he was younger. I want to sing to her, the songs I sang as a child and to my son. I want to dance with her, to practice for that day when she wears white and I'm no longer the most important man in her life, but I still get a special song devoted to me.

I know that I'm not alone with these wants and desires, I know that millions of other parents have felt exactly the same way... but I think I just might be alone in the fact that, while I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that difficulties and stress lie in my future, I await it with bated breath.

-A

Gender Divisions

Since the decision to have me stay at home full-time with our soon-to-exist-in-this-world infant, I've been exploring things that generally seem to be off-limits to people of the gentlemanly persuasion.

For example, laundry. I can do it. Sort the darks, colors, whites, adjust the settings on the washing machine, use the right detergent or spot-treatments, pull out the delicates, etc. I still don't like folding clothes (my wife is much neater about it).

Another thing I've found out: if I know where the cleaning supplies are, I know how to use them. Toilet bowl stuff, Pledge, dishwasher detergent, etc. I may not be as on-the-ball about keeping everything spotless, but I'm getting there.

In the spirit of learning about things which are traditionally viewed as "women's work," I've decided that if I'm going in for a foot, I should go in for a mile. Which means that I've learned how to use our sewing machine. Of course, the first thing I made was for me to wear as part of my Renaissance costume, but when we originally purchased the fabric and pattern for it a year ago, it was with the assumption that my wife would be the one to make it. Of course, after I finished I drew up a pattern for a minimalist belt pouch, cut it out, sewed it up, and loved it.

Next up, I think I'd like to learn to crochet. You see, I really enjoy making things. Even if it's just putting together a bookshelf from IKEA, if I am building something from individual components, I am in my happy place. Putting together the crib, glider, two bookshelves, a dresser, and the stroller kept me in my happy place for nearly a week. So if I can learn more about creating, rather than just building, not only will these little side projects help keep me sane, but I'll also have something unique(ish) to show for my efforts.

I'm positive that there are other "women's" things out there that I might enjoy, now that I'm breaking down as many gender divisions as I can. If you can think of something I'd like, by all means, share it with me! I'm not afraid to get "girly" about it!

-A

An Introduction

Greetings and salutations,

My name is Adam, and I am going to be a SAHD and I'm proud of it! I have been blessed with a beautiful wife who is more than capable of single-handedly supporting the financial aspect of our life together, leaving me with the opportunity to stay home with the child she is currently busy growing (she is 31 weeks pregnant, due November 21st).

Our lives have not always been on such a clear course, however.

My professional life has always been a struggle to wake up, spending the majority of my life at a place I dislike, doing things that I despise, for a paycheck that doesn't truly reflect my value as an individual. This has lead to long bouts of depression and anxiety, as well as unemployment and disappointment. Thankfully, I feel like I have finally found my calling in life: to be a full-time parent.

Since my wife and I jointly made the decision that I would stay home with our littlest addition, I have been happy, productive and generally more fun to be around. Instead of staying up until the wee hours of the morning, and sleeping for as long as possible, I find myself in bed during "regular" hours, waking in the morning, and getting a ton of things accomplished each day. This is a major change from the reluctant, nearly useless husband I was before.

I have always been in love with my wife, and have always been extremely grateful for what I have in my life. The struggle has always been to find my purpose. And while struggling to find it, living with me wasn't easy. I was grumpy, non-communicative, and didn't help out much around the house. Our marriage went through difficult times, times when it seemed like the only possible resolution was dissolution.

We worked through our (my) issues, however, and life turned around. I took control of what I wanted to do, or thought I wanted to do, and my self-esteem came back to a point where I felt valuable again. Some time afterwards, we decided to start our family.

So before you get to thinking that this is a "save-a-marriage" baby (which some people who don't know us have called it), let me reassure you that we saved our marriage long before we chose to bring a child into our lives.

Also in our lives is my son from a previous relationship, who will be 11 and a half years old when our daughter is born. He has been a blessing in every aspect of the word. He has been my rock, my source of strength, that even in my darkest times I have always been able to look to him and say, "This is why I am here. This is why I must keep moving forward." My wife and my son have together provided me with the strength to pull my act together and become the man I am today. A man, that I am proud to say, who is worthy of respect.

There is more to my story, however, as there is to everyone's stories; a life cannot be summed in a few paragraphs. The rest of the story will come out in time, as the relevant pieces get put into the stories of life as a SAHD. The goal of this blog is to share with friends and family about my experiences as a full-time father, the struggles and joys, trials and tribulations, fun and excitement.

I am eager to meet the little person my wife is carrying, and I am excited to share our lives with you.

Thanks for reading,

-A